


The Undiscovered Country

by StanfouQueen



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-ep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 16:04:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13550796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StanfouQueen/pseuds/StanfouQueen
Summary: "What happened to you, Rafael?""The same thing that happens to everyone here; the same thing I was warned about from day one. I let myself grow weak, I let myself care, I let myself…"Pre-ep for The Undiscovered Country.





	The Undiscovered Country

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Just a little Barson pre-ep I wrote for The Undiscovered Country. Hope you like it.

Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out-

"Yes," Barba says, looking the assembled team in the eyes one-by-one. Olivia, and McCoy, and Stone.

Trapped, he's trapped in every which way, and his heart is pounding like a drum. He- he hadn't really thought he'd  _get away with it_ , really. But he hadn't expected it to all come crashing down like this, either.

"I helped her bypass the law. To do what was best for her child. I did what I thought was right." His voice breaks. "What  _I know_  was right."

"Barba," McCoy says, and just his name spoken that way carries so much weight.

Barba knows, then, knows it's all over. So he swallows and asks, "How long am I going away for?"

McCoy's face is hard as he says, "It depends on the grand jury."

"The grand jury?" Olivia asks in dismay, gaping at them.

"Yes. Tomorrow," McCoy affirms, voice unforgiving.

* * *

The second Barba sees McCoy's face after the morning's Grand Jury session, Barba knows he stands no chance.

Barba cringes when he hears the deal McCoy offers during their lunch break. 25 years, up for parole in 20- and what kills him is that it's even better than he dared hope for.

"I need to think," Barba manages to croak, and McCoy is at least kind enough to allow that.

* * *

"Liv… there's nothing you can do," Barba says that night, feeling like a broken record.

"But, Barba… after Sheila Porter… You were there for me. I have to so something." Olivia's voice wavers.

"There's nothing left  _to_ do. I'm going to take the plea, Liv," he says, voice rough, eyes wet. The most painful words he's ever had to speak. "By the time you see me again, you'll be old, Noah will be an adult… you might even be a grandmother yourself by then." And he laughs, bitter and dark.

"You can't, Rafa," Olivia whispers. "What will I tell Noah? You're his hero."

Rafael laughs again, still devoid of humor. "That's a lie, and you know it, Liv. That's always been  _you_  and always will be. Noah will hardly even know I'm gone."

Once upon a time, when Barba had just started working together, amidst many brash and rude remarks, Olivia had thought she hated nothing more than Barba's arrogance.

She'd been wrong.

Seeing this side of Barba, she decides she'd give anything to get that arrogance back.

* * *

The words stay with Olivia all the next day, until she sees Barba again at Forlini's. Drinking before noon, not that she can blame him, but it hurts, it hurts so badly to see Barca like this. Now  _her_  eyes are watering, damn him, and all she can do is ask, "what happened to you, Rafael?"

Immediately understanding, Rafael sighs, letting his shoulders drop. "The same thing that happens to everyone here; the same thing I was warned about from day one. I let myself grow weak, I let myself care, I let myself…" He shrugs, averting his gaze.

Olivia swallows, and reaches out to grab his hand between hers. "Rafael…"

"Liv," Rafael says, far too much exhaustion radiating off the one word. "Do you trust me?"

Without hesitation, Olivia says, "yes. With my life."

"But do you trust me with  _my_  life?" he presses, and Olivia frowns. She isn't sure what irritates her more- the implication that it's easier to trust Rafael with her life than his own… or the fact that the implication is absolutely correct.

Olivia goes quiet. Her heart is too heavy.

Rafael understands, and chuckles. "There's a reason I always told Mami you drive me crazy."

* * *

Olivia swears she feels herself age ten years as the gravity of the situation sinks in over the next desperate hour. Finally, sucking her lower lip between her teeth, Olivia says, "I do trust you, Barba. No matter what."

Barba squeezes her hand now, lets his thumb run over the back of it. "Then let me do this, Liv."

A tear splashes onto the table as Olivia nods and makes herself ask, "what happens now?"

Barba gets a waiter's attention, and orders a $400 bottle of scotch in a blatant last hurrah. The kind Olivia only sees in two people: those who are dying, or those who are going to prison for possibly the rest of their life.

"I'll tell McCoy first thing tomorrow," Barba says as the waiter walks away. "He'll probably give me a few days to set my affairs in order… and then." He lets out a sigh, trailing off.

Olivia swallows against the lump in her throat. There's so many things she wants to tell him- she wants to reassure him and beg him and who knows what else.

"I'll visit you," is what finally escapes her lips.

Barba's lips barely move upwards, but they  _do_  and that's a minor victory for Olivia. "Will you?" he asks, softly.

Olivia can only nod, and Rafael gives a slightly bigger, but still small smile into his glass of scotch.

Olivia fiddles with her glass of water, and wishes she had the luxury of her old vice. But she can't, not when Noah needs her.

Besides, neither of the duo want to spend their last hours together drunk.

"I'd do it again," Rafael blurts out. "I would. The law… the law isn't always right."

"I know," Olivia says.

Rafael sighs. "Now I just have to tell my mom."

"I'm sorry," Olivia murmurs, and then silence falls like a guillotine blade; quick, painful, and  _final_.

* * *

"Mami, I have to tell you something." Barba's voice wavers.

"Rafi, dios mio, are you-"

"I'm not dying." That he can say firmly. Not that the truth is that much better, really.

"Then what is it, Rafi?"

That's his mother. Always to the point; she'd always said she didn't have time for nonsense as a teenager, and certainly not now.

In a rush, Rafael says, "I… I fucked up. Sort of. I didn't do anything  _wrong_ , I swear I didn't-"

"Then  _what_?"

"I may be- no, I am- I'm going to jail, Mami." He lets out a tiny near-sob.

"What?!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so- I didn't want to- I'm sorry, please don't cry, Mami please don't cry-"

* * *

"Don't cry, Noah-"

"But  _why_?"

Damn it all, it  _hurts_ , it hurts that a good man is going to jail for doing the right thing, and it hurts that her son is bawling his eyes out-

"Because…"

_Because there's no justice in the world anymore. Because the world is a horrible place, because every day I promise I'll make it better for you, my love, and every day I fail again and again-_

Her arms wrap around Noah, and Noah lets out a sob as he buries his head in her neck. "I wanna play with Uncle Rafa, Mommy! Why can't I anymore?!"

"Because Uncle Rafa made a mistake, and he has to leave for a while to fix it."

"Like Grandma Sheila?" Noah hiccups.

_No, not like Sheila. Sheila was never anything but selfish and she wanted to ruin our lives… Rafael fights for good and it's not his fault that what's fair and what's lawful never overlap anymore… Those two should never be compared…_

"Yes… I guess it is sort of like Grandma Sheila."

"I wanna see her too! When can we, Mommy? Can we if I clean my room? I'll be good, I promise!" For just a moment Noah's eyes gleam with hope. The boy is still at a young, innocent enough age to believe being good can fix everything.

"No, Noah. We can't. I'm sorry." Olivia wants to soften the blow, to promise him something else instead, but can't bring herself to.

"But why?" The tears start anew.

"…"

"Why not, Mommy? It's not fair!"

Doesn't she know it.

"Sometimes, Noah, things happen in life that aren't fair. I'm sorry, my love."

* * *

They go to meet McCoy together, an unspoken agreement.

Olivia's hand caresses Barba's back. She pretends not to notice the man trembling under her fingertips.

"Mr. Barba," McCoy says without preamble. "What's your decision?"

"I'll take the deal." Defeated, Barba hangs his head. "The jail time, the disbarment, all of it… I just ask for some time to get my things in order."

McCoy acquiesces, and sadly looks his former subordinate in the eye. "You were a good prosecutor, Mr. Barba. One of the best."

Rafael swallows thickly. "Till I grew a heart," he says with none of the venom he feels.

Dryly, McCoy says, "Brains, judgment, heart. Pick two."

Looking at Olivia, Rafael smiles sadly. His choice is clear to both of them.

* * *

It's Rafael's last night as a free man, and he's sitting with Olivia. His head rests on her shoulder, and she's telling him stories about her rookie years, and Rafael decides he wouldn't want to spend this night any other way.

"I'm sorry," he tells her, letting out a sigh as he shifts his head. "Not for what I did. But that it hurt you."

Olivia sighs. "I'm easy to hurt, it seems." Barba winces, but Olivia doesn't take the statement back.

"I didn't want to be like them," Barba says.

_But I am anyway, and we have to live with it._

* * *

Barba goes to sleep around midnight, but Olivia doesn't.

She doesn't sleep at all that night.

Long ago she learned that nothing in this world is free. Everything has to be won.

So she sets out in search of a miracle. Anything that can help right the world that has been so hopelessly spun upside-down.

* * *

Hours of witness statements and videos and trudging through legal tomes that give her a headache, and she finally has something that  _just might_  be enough to save him.

She shows Barba first, and watches his eyes go wide, his jaw drop- "how did you?"- and she knows it'll be enough.

She knows Barba will stay with her, that they'll be squabbling at 75, like they're supposed to be.

* * *

Barba looks McCoy in the eye when he presents Olivia's evidence, a new strength invigorating his spirit.

"I won't be taking the deal," he says cheerfully.

McCoy looks the papers over, and frowns. "No. That won't be necessary, Barba. But." He sets the folder on his desk. "You have to face the consequences."

Barba nods; losing his job is small in return for not going to prison. "I understand. I was almost packed up anyway."

"Take care of yourself, Barba," McCoy says.

* * *

"What will you do?"

The question isn't unexpected, but it still catches Barba off-guard. He wants to say something sarcastic, or impressive, but the truth is that he simply doesn't know. And so he says, "Nothing, yet. I need some time to think… figure this out."

"I'll be here when you do."

He'd know as much, but it's nice to hear it aloud. He lets out a hum of approval before looking around the street, casting one last look at the office he'd spent so many years working at. Fifteen floors up, third window from the left, and damnit he's not going to cry-

But he is, and a pathetic little sob escapes him.

"Rafa," Olivia whispers, and just his name makes him fall apart, body shaking in delayed reaction to the hell the past few days have been. Olivia holds him through it, rubs his back, whispers calming words and instructs him to  _breathe_.

Exhausted, he pulls away. Looks her in the eyes and feels a confusing mixture of despair and hope.

He takes a steadying breath, and declares, "I don't know what I'm going to do… but I know for now, I just want to be with you and Noah. My family."

Olivia grabs his hand. "We would love that."

Rafael gives a thin smile, grabbing her hand back. He looks from her to the Manhattan D.A.'s office, but doesn't cry this time as she gently pulls him forward to venture into the undiscovered country.


End file.
